


First time prompt response - G1 Motormaster

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motormaster learns a bit more about his purpose when combat training becomes something else entirely.</p><p>Content advice: tactile and energy field interfacing, violence in a training context, consent issues due to Motormaster's inexperience.</p><p>Set in the Dysfunction AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First time prompt response - G1 Motormaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caia (Caius)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/gifts).



> Written for the 'How did they lose their virginity?' meme. This one's for Caius, who requested Motormaster.

The first time they were alone, they fought.

Megatron insisted, his powerful engine roaring and a smirk on his lips that made Motormaster's entire frame tingle.

The tingle didn't die as Megatron swung his fist. Nor as Motormaster ducked and swerved, and used his new vantage to aim a blow at his lord's midsection. It only intensified, filling the gaps between his armour with a crackling anticipation, lending an extra edge to his excitement as the fight intensified.

New as he was, Motormaster understood his purpose; he was there to challenge, to test, to stand in for Prime when his lord commanded. And he revelled in it, exploring the limits of his frame, never once holding back, because that would be a disservice to them both.

But he didn't expect what came next.

The fight ended in a heap; both of them tired and battered, tangled around one another on the floor. Motormaster had given as good as he received, and even under the rain of blows Megatron had never stopped smiling. But now his smile took on a different cast, his touch - still harsh - became demanding, grasping.

It was a different kind of fight, and Motormaster didn't know the rules. He did his best to keep up, and was rewarded with instruction; nothing verbal, but the forced rearrangement of his hands on Megatron's plating, a thrilling flare of Megatron's energy field every time he did something right.

He learnt quickly, channelling the ferocity of battle into this new struggle. He pursued his lord’s pleasure with a relentless single-mindedness; the goal had never been conquest – that was unthinkable – but to hold his own, to fulfil his purpose, and it stayed the same. He wanted to give as good as he received, although his own efforts were as rough and inconsistent as his fighting style was polished.

His climax took him by surprise. Overtaxed sensors sang, and charge surged through him, knocking out his minor systems and forcing him to reboot.

It left him sated and drained, and when his optics came back online the first thing he saw was Megatron’s knowing smirk.

This, it seemed, was another aspect of his purpose. He could live with that.


End file.
